


The way home

by sparegarbage



Category: Gaya Sa Pelikula (Web Series)
Genre: Hurt, M/M, Oneshot, Pining, coming home, episode 8 after vlad talks to a
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:34:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29326329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparegarbage/pseuds/sparegarbage
Summary: How Vlad finds himself in front of the wrong unit after a botched encounter with his ex.
Relationships: Karl Frederick Almasen/Jose Vladimir Austria
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17





	The way home

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction using the characters from Juan Miguel Severo's Gaya sa Pelikula. The author does not claim ownership of the characters or the universe it is set in.

In his first week of living in Karl's unit, Vlad constantly found himself gravitating towards his old one.

He'd be on his way back, keys in hand, finding himself turning left instead of right. He'd always correct his course before anyone saw, save the one time that Anna caught him at her door (and whose silence has since been bought with beer and snacks).

It was only after his birthday that Vlad became surefooted in his way. Repetition builds habit, he guessed. Perhaps his feet finally caught up with what the rest of him had been going through: this unit was his new home.

Or maybe the difference was who he was coming home to.

Karl.

Karl, who was kind and caring without trying.

Karl, whose innocence made you sure there was good in the world.

Karl, who loved him without either of them realizing.

Maybe when your heart finds its home, the rest of you simply follows.

* * *

In his first week of living back in his unit, Vlad constantly found himself gravitating towards Karl's old one.

He’d be coming up the stairs, keys in hand, finding himself a step closer to the wrong door before he shuffles towards the right direction. Unlike before, there was no one to catch his mistake, and the error made in solitude was bitter compared to observed embarrassment.

When left unguarded, the heart builds its habits, and the rest of the self follows. Perhaps Vlad’s feet had not yet caught on to what his heart should have realized: Vlad had no home there after all.

Or maybe the difference was having no one to come home to. 

In the quiet hours between late night and early morning, Vlad cursed at the keys that wouldn't fit in the lock and yelled at the door that kept him away from his bed. (His body could rest, he figured, even if his heart and mind could not.)

Neither the keys nor the door responded, but a voice called out from the other side. Anger flared in Vlad’s chest. Someone was inside the unit. This was the last thing he needed after his disastrous encounter with the cheater. The walls were spinning, and the night had gone on too long. All Vlad wanted to do was go home. 

So, when Karl opened the door, Vlad felt a moment's peace, as if the universe had heard his heart's desire and brought him home indeed. A smile almost made its way to Vlad’s lips.

Until reality settled in. 

_"This is not my unit."_

_"This is not your unit."_

Two quiet voices echoing charged truths. This was not Vlad’s unit after all, not anymore. This was the wrong place and the wrong time, because not all homes were forever, and sometimes chances are sorely lost. In his drunken state, Vlad wondered why he felt simultaneously adrift and grounded in front of the one person to whom he had given more of himself than anyone else.

_"Not my ex."_

_"I'm not your ex."_

He was not A. He was not the one who cheated on him, not the person who carved out months of Vlad’s life by hiding him away with lies and excuses, not the one who treated him like a toy he would only take out when he was bored, only to be replaced by the next shiny new plaything.

_"You're not my ex."_

Because this was Karl.

Karl, who in his kindness, innocence, and love, took all of Vlad’s broken pieces and made them whole, only to carve out new fissures in places he did not think could hurt. There was only one Karl, and no one could compare.

Vlad looked at him then, at those lash-framed eyes so full of concern that Vlad could almost delude himself into thinking it was love. He let out a sob, and his voice cracked at his next words.

_“You’re not my ex.”_

Because they were never together after all.


End file.
